


kill me one last time.

by cxers



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), youtube - Fandom
Genre: Dark, Death, M/M, One Shot, Phandom - Freeform, Stabbing, Violence, obscure, phanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-19 00:37:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22969120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cxers/pseuds/cxers
Summary: He remembers what Dans face looked like before he leaned in and kissed Phil in great detail, down to the nervous way his lip twitched and the way his eyes darted down to his lips. He remembers the exact way his red face looked like after their first time, laughing and embarrassed but ultimately the happiest either of them had ever been. He remembers Dans hands reaching out to him on the first day they moved into their Manchester apartment, a soft comfort so Phil knew that they were in this together, forever.They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, maybe that's true.
Relationships: Dan and Phil - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	kill me one last time.

He pulled the knife from the block holder that was atop the counter in their kitchen, he didn't have any single thought as he unsheathed the thin plastic surrounding it. His walk was in long strides from the kitchen to the hallway, but it wasn't him walking. It was this ghost version of himself forcing his feet to move before him. He grabbed a thick black coat from off the hanger beside the front door and put it on himself, the cold feeling in his bones didn't alleviate though; his body was still shivering from the inside out, shaking almost. He put the knife previously in his hand into the deep velcro pocket and opened the door. It was extremely dark outside, all the streetlights seemed to have turned off, the only light coming from the moon above. 

He couldn't feel anything but the knife burning through his double layered clothing, he walked with purpose and a weird pride, there wasn't excitement or jitter or even happiness in his walk, it was just a numb stride of confidence that he didn't actually feel. 

He didn't really feel _anything_ , his emotions were motionless. He felt like a moving rock being placed and moved around by an invisible force, like a chess piece in a game. His limbs were heavy and light all at the same time, his thoughts were a mixture of words and phrases he's heard over the years but none of them clear enough to make out. 

He's going insane, he _knows_ he's going insane. 

But he can't stop. 

He walked for what felt like hours but was probably less than 10 minutes, his head ached from the jammed up thoughts and booming voices that echoed around his skull. 

Soon enough, a light appeared closer and closer and burned his eyes, followed by the sound of loudening music and people talking and singing along to whatever song was playing.

He stood facing the house, directly across the street from it. It was a rather large house - two stories, it had a long driveway with a few people on it, he could see lights flashing through the window of all colours, music so loud the curtains were bouncing, it was a like proper American teen movie party.

His eyes searched until he saw a very familiar tall silhouette, features and details blocked out by the bright light coming through the driveway roller door, but he could still see that fluffy curly hair he'd become so accustomed to running his slim fingers through. 

Phil walked from where he was over to the driveway, there were a few other people and one Dan was converting with. His hands were shaking and his pocket was burning, but he kept walking, he kept moving until he was right up next to Dan. 

"Phil?" Dan said turning to him, concerned, "I thought you weren't feeling well?"

Phil couldn't even speak, he didn't know if that was his own will power or his vocal cords just didn't work. 

A beat.

"Phil?"

Dan was in his usual black jeans, his shirt a long black sleeved turtleneck with weird zips that Phil didn't understand the purpose of. His hair was sprayed with noticable wet hair spray, but somehow his curls were perfect and in place. Gorgeous as normal. 

Phil felt his heart melt looking into his eyes, flashbacks of their first meeting and that fluttering feeling in his stomach coming back to him. He remembers what Dans face looked like before he leaned in and kissed Phil in great detail, down to the nervous way his lip twitched and the exact way his eyes darted down to his lips. He remembers the way his red face looked like after their first time, laughing in Phils arms and clearly embarrassed but ultimately the happiest either of them had ever been. He remembers Dans hands reaching out to him on the first day they moved into their Manchester apartment, a soft comfort so Phil knew that they were in this together, forever.

They say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, maybe that's true.

He pulled the knife out of his jacket pocket in a swift move, grabbing it by the handle and facing the tip of the blade towards Dan.

He heard a gasp from Dan and another one presumably made by the forgotten person Dan was converting with. Phil grabbed Dan by his arm and pulled him towards him before Dan had the chance to step away, he fell on his feet a bit before Phil's empty hand got a hold around his chest, pulling his back against Phil's own chest. Dan didn't even scream, he just let it happen in absolute shock, he wouldn't have understood why his Phil was behaving this way, obviously.

Phil held the knife to the centre of Dans chest, he could see from where he was angled the fast rise and fall of it, Phil would cry if his eyes would let him.

He didn't have to do this, but he so, so did.

"Phil, what the fuck is happening?" Dan was quieter and calmer than Phil would have guessed in this situation, he didn't respond but looked up to see if anyone was around, but no one was, nothing was, it looked like a literal black empty void with only the two of them in it.

With only Phil holding Dan in his arms, holding a knife to his chest. 

He applied a slight bit of pressure, not enough to pierce Dan's skin but enough so he could feel it.

"Phil, seriously, what the fuck are you doing?"  
Dan said a louder than he did before, he attempted to pull out of Phil's grasp gently but Phil held him tighter, digging the knife in just a bit more so it sent a small sharp pain though Dan's body.

Dan hissed in pain but didn't try to squirm away again, he was clearly confused as to why someone he loves, someone he knows loves him, is piercing a knife in his chest. Phil wishes it was a joke, he wishes he wasn't doing this, and he can't even give a definite answer as to why. 

Dan winced and attempted at pulling away again, causing it to go in further and Dan to hiss louder. 

"Phil what the _fuck_!" Dan now shouted into the still empty abyss surrounding them. 

Phil wanted to say something, anything, he didn't want to kill the love of his life, he didn't want to kill anyone. And Dan was beautiful, Dan was his absolute light in the dark, Dan showed Phil how to love, and in return Phil showed Dan. They were everything they could ever want to be, anything either of them had ever dreamed of. 

Phil pushed the knife so it hit the bone of his chest. Dan screamed out in pain but Phil didn't stop, he dug it in further and further pressing the tip in with more force, cracking Dan's delicate bones. 

Phil couldn't hear anything but Dans confused screams and could only feel the way the knife cut through his skin as he pulled it out and plunged it back in the same spot, causing Dans breath to go completely rigid, all the air escaping his presumably tired lungs. No sound escaped his lips as he went limp in Phils arms, with Phil pulling out and ramming the knife back in, 1, 2, 3, 4 times.

Dan fell face down on the ground and puddle of thick dark liquid pooled from underneath him, creating a circle around his lifeless body. 

Phil looked to his hand, it almost blended in with the black background, shiny with the same blood, his right hand much the same but holding the very knife that caused this. 

And suddenly, Phil realised that he was now alone. He realised in the 30 seconds he was left stood there in stunned silence that he was still alone, and that in itself was a terrifying pull to reality. 

He was staring at the man he had spent the best years of his life with, dead, in a pool of his own blood, because Phil had killed him. 

Phil killed Dan. 

The black surrounding them suddenly turned to white, Phil put his arms across his face, attempting to shield the blinding light encasing his world. His brain felt like mush as everything changed, his eyes hurt with the light mixed with flashes of bright red blood, it hurt. 

It got brighter and brighter until like a lightbulb, it blew, like a giant bomb exploding. His eyes were wet with tears, because he had just killed the love of his life and because of a sharp pain in his right arm. He could hardly see anything as everything was just a mumble of colours and shapes, kind of like when you rub your eyes too hard. 

He could just see the knife he was previously holding sticking out of his arm, he was so confused. What the fuck was happening? What the _fuck_ is this? 

He started to feel very faint from all his senses being over run. He closed his eyes but could still see blinding lights threw his eyelids, the knife that had somehow made its way in his arm felt like it moved. 

It moved and rose up just in front of his face. He opened his eyes and fell to the ground, completely weak from all the power being drained from him.

The knife fell with him and further, jamming its way to the space between his eyes.

He screamed out but he couldn't hear his own voice, a sharp ringing in his ears alerted him of that. Everything hurt, every part of him was completely sent into overdrive. 

_what the absolute fucking fuck._

His face felt like it was on fire. This must be paypack. This must be. 

If it's payback then.. so be it. 

Then he woke up. He woke up under the same grey duvet, next to the same person he does every morning. 

"Dan..?" He asked, just in case. 

"Shh, it's okay Phil, are you okay?" 

His eyes looked concerned and sweet, clearly knowing Phil had a bad dream. They looked the same that they looked right before Phil killed him. 

"Yeah I'm.. yeah." Phil lied, closing his eyes and thinking it over. 

He brought his arm out of the duvet and up in front of his face, thick droplets of warm blood dripped down it. 

**Author's Note:**

> i really do enjoy writing about murder. therapeutic in a way, you should try it. 
> 
> thankyou for taking the time to read this! i'm not a professional writer by any means but i do like doing it


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